


Live and Learn

by HeereandThere



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: A Character Kind of Loses It, Everyone Has Powers Except For Michael, Jeremy Still Low-Key Pines For Christine But I Dunno If I'll Make it a Huge Focus, Jeremy and Michael's Friendship Goes Downhill, Mental Health Issues, There's Violence But Nothing So Extremely Graphic It Deserves a Mature Rating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-05-14 21:06:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14777237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeereandThere/pseuds/HeereandThere
Summary: No one's entirely sure why they're the way they are, not even themselves. There was no freak accident, no unholy experimentation in a lab hidden deep underground. Just a bunch of kids from New Jersey who are stuck with powers beyond human comprehension.This small group of only seven spent 16 years thinking they were the only ones of their kind and knowing there was no chance of them being normal. However, when a person with a mysterious background named Jason shows up all the way from Japan, things change drastically. They know things about them they didn't even know about themselves and claims they want to use this information to help them get a better grip on their abnormal abilities.Maybe for once they can feel like they belong and are in charge of their own fates, but at a cost far beyond what they imagined.





	1. Business as Usual

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNINGS: Very brief drug mention, and it's only for a minuscule joke; bullying mention**
> 
> Admittedly, a slow start, but I swear it speeds up in the next chapter! I just had to start somewhere.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After another day that could only be uneventful for him, Jeremy winds up reflecting on everything that has got him to where he is.

"Jeremy!" The boy in question stopped dead in his tracks, maneuvering over to the side of the hallway so disgruntled students wouldn't mow him down. He whirled around and noticed a grinning teen in a red hoodie waving at him enthusiastically. The other junior bounded forward, removing his headphones as he shoved his way through the throng of kids forcing their way to the school's exit.

"Hey, Michael," Jeremy greeted nonchalantly.

Michael tapped him playfully on the shoulder. "Yo, man. I've been thinking-"

"Dangerous."

"Shut up. I've been thinking: You decimated me the last time we duked it out in Mario Kart, right?"

"Right."

"So, I've been trying to figure out where I went wrong and I think I've got the perfect strategy to obliterate you. What do you say? Rematch? My house?"

Jeremy desperately wanted to accept the challenge; he was actually about to before his face fell. Some days the rules were a little less strict and he could hang out with his best friend, but this was not one of those times. "I can't."

Michael's shoulders slumped a little and he furrowed his brow. "Yeah, I didn't think so. Had to give it a shot, though," he adjusted his backpack strap awkwardly before feigning hope. "Can I at least give you a ride home?"

"Only if you buy me a slushie, too."

Michael slapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned in close. "Keep dreaming, buddy." Jeremy snickered lightheartedly, masking the regret he felt for declining his friend's invitation.

On that note, they stepped through the school's main doors and out into the hustle and bustle of the parking lot. They waltzed past groups of all sorts, whose conversations ranged from extracurricular schedules to whether or not it was possible to drink weed. Michael's beaten up PT Cruiser was parked a bit further back on the lot, since he often arrived at the school mere minutes before the bell rang, yet it still didn't take very long to approach due to the lot's minuscule size.

They clambered into opposite sides of the car, Michael getting behind the wheel and Jeremy, who had yet to earn his license, settling into the passenger's side. The car started up with a mildly painful stutter that morphed into a low rumble, but there was a quiet moment between the two kids inside. Michael was the first to break the silence.

"If you don't mind me asking, why's your dad so strict about going out and stuff?" He peered at his companion anxiously out of the corner of his eye, both curious and nervous to see how he would react.

Jeremy's stomach did a somersault and his heart skipped a beat. He attempted to keep his cool as he responded. "I don't know," he lied. "Just a Dad thing, I guess."

"Weird," Michael remarked, "but I guess everyone raises their kids differently. Doesn't make it suck any less, though. No offense."

"No, you're right." Jeremy stared out of the window wistfully as he relinquished a tiny sigh of relief. He wasn't entirely sure if Michael believed him, but he was grateful he hadn't pushed the matter any further.

"I believe this abode is yours, my good sir." Michael's voice drew Jeremy out of his own thoughts and only then did he realize he had been zoning out.

"Already?"

"You don't live that far from the school, dude."

"Oh. Yeah." Jeremy sounded slightly disappointed. He huffed and dejectedly exited the car, collecting his things from the back seat. "See you tomorrow."

"See ya." Jeremy noticed a glint of sympathy in Michael's eyes as he turned and headed for the front door. He didn't particularly want his pity, but he secretly appreciated that someone had his back. He knew Michael didn't have to go through what he did, though he felt more comfortable around this boy than he did his own father.

Speaking of his father, Mr. Heere was impatiently waiting in the nearby living room for the familiar sound of Jeremy coming through the door. His expression instantly brightened when he realized his son was home and safe and sound. "Howdy, son."

"Hey, Dad."

"How'd school go today?"

"Same as usual."

Mr. Heere hissed through his teeth. "That bad, huh?"

"... Yeah." Jeremy was fully prepared to end the conversation there and retire to his bedroom, not really wanting to discuss the details of his remotely uneventful day, but his father pressed on just as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Any flare-ups?"

Jeremy winced and bowed his head a little; he absolutely abhorred discussing his... quirk. As if people didn't already consider him a freak, the whole world would turn their backs on him if they knew what he could do. "I, uh... I accidentally set Anne's phone off."

Mr. Heere furrowed his brow, expression unreadable. "How'd that blow over?"

"Mr. Gretch yelled at her for having her ringer on, but no one really made a big deal out of it." A wave of relief washed over Mr. Heere.

"See, son? You're getting better." Jeremy offered little more than an uncertain smile. In his father's eyes, he was making an insane amount of progress when it came to self-control, but that was only because he wouldn't dare tell him everything that happened. He never mentioned how the television in his room flickered on and off throughout the night, how outlets short-circuited simply because he walked by, how was the reason the car's radio constantly flipped through stations without any manual input... The list went on and on.

Without another word exchanged between the two of them, Jeremy scurried upstairs and retreated to his room as initially planned. He haphazardly threw his things onto the carpeted floor and tossed himself onto the bed, staring at the ceiling absentmindedly. This was a pastime he could get behind; shutting off his mind for a little bit and pretending he was normal was better than facing the harsh reality that he never would be.

Ever since he was 5, life had been different for him than all of the other kids. The minute he accidentally turned the TV on without touching it, he was suddenly an entirely different person. He wasn't just a kid, anymore; he was set aside from the rest, an outcast before he even had a friend group to be shunned from, and his parents never really his this fact. It was blatantly obvious that, though they tried their best, they were afraid of him because they didn't know how to handle him.

Yet, they still tried to make him feel better by allowing him liberties than normal children wouldn't appreciate; he was allowed to go to school and have friends and other small things like that. Life went very well this way for a bit once he got a bit of a hold on his technopathy, until he made the mistake of telling his 2nd grade classmate about it.

As rumors spread and tensions rose the family found themselves uprooted and in Michigan, which was when they all realized the reality of their situation. From that moment on, they were significantly more cautious, which hindered some of Jeremy's freedoms. This doesn't mean that it did not happen again. It took several years, but he eventually spilled the secret once more upon drastically misjudging his trust in a "friend".

When he was 12 and they made the move to New Jersey, his mother did not come with them, making things more difficult for everyone involved. As both father and son coped with the divorce in their own ways, Jeremy also faced the betrayal and had to deal with the rule revisions, which pretty much kept him inside when he wasn't at something important. Life was difficult and, admittedly, kind of terrible until Jeremy's 2nd week of school.

_"Is it okay if I sit here?" Jeremy was torn out of his thoughts by a nervous-looking kid standing on the other side of the cafeteria table. He recognized the messy black hair, brown glasses, and then short stature from some of his classes. "You look kind of lonely, but no pressure. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."_

_Jeremy reeled for a second before hurriedly responding. "Um... No, yeah. Sure." The other student grinned and took the seat directly across from him. He extended a hand and g_ _ave Jeremy a hearty handshake._

_"I'm Michael."_

_"Jeremy."_

_"You're new, right?"_

_"Sort of."_

_"That explains it." Michael nodded knowingly. "You're having trouble finding a clique."_

_"Clique?"_

_"Well, not really. Yet. But everyone's kind of got their own groups, except for me. I'm not really a joiner." Michael laughed a little and abruptly changed the subject. "So what brings you to New Jersey?" He winced the smallest bit upon reciting the state's name, as though moving there was a poor life choice._

_Jeremy froze, but shook it off and used the same lame excuse he always did. "We were just looking for something different, I guess."_

_"Oh." Michael sounded mildly disappointed. "I'd kill to get outta here. It's pretty boring, but you're different than me. You'll probably like it better."_

_"Maybe." Jeremy glanced over at a group of kids at another table, all snickering and pointing at the two of them. Some of them looked immensely disapproving. "It hasn't really been the warmest reception."_

_Michael whirled around to see what Jeremy was looking at; when he noticed the crowd, his expression sobered when he turned back, but he didn't look at all surprised. "Screw them. They're just afraid of what they don't know. If you're even a little bit different, they panic like a bunch of wild animals. It's sad, really."_

_"I guess."_

_"Look, just ignore them. Or you can just sic me on them."_

_That gained a timid smile from Jeremy. "I don't think I'll need to go that far. But thanks."_

_"Don't mention it. Guys like us gotta stick together."_

And with that, Michael was the first friend to be true to Jeremy, but only because he swore never to tell him about his abilities. Sure, he cared about Michael and he had his doubts that he would do the same things the others did, but there was always a paranoid voice in the back of his head instructing him not to. It was for the best for everyone.

4 years passed with an extensive string of unremarkable events, other than the increased longing for an average life. As nice as Michael and a controlled environment were, he always pined for something more, like having an actual friend group and to not have to be on high-alert all the time.

Jeremy, still staring at the ceiling, rolled lazily onto his side. His phone chimed with a brief retro jingle, meaning Michael was prepared to talk whenever he was. His player 1, thankfully, always respected his privacy when he wasn't, which was the case that day. After about 30 minutes of accidentally getting lost in his thoughts instead of turning them off, he had grown weary and wasn't very enthused by the prospect of socialization. Isolation was in his best interest at that juncture.

As the lights shuttered off without so much of a flicker of pressure on the switch, Jeremy curled into a ball and recalled something his parents used to say: _Tomorrow's another day. Who knows what could happen?_

He countered it with his own sentiment: _Same old, same old._


	2. Days Off Are Supposed to Be Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy wakes up feeling terrible with no viable explanation.

_"I don't worry_  
_If I blow my SATs_  
_I worry_  
_What can I possibly do?"_

  
Jeremy groaned and shifted slightly beneath his covers, feeling another wave of pain rack through his body, every muscle protesting against any movement. The very last thing he wanted to do was participate in a phone conversation; he had woken to a colossal headache that had morphed into a migraine, he had exponentially lost the ability to move without feeling like he was dying, and his stomach was dangerously close to rebelling against him.

_"To squeeze in_  
_Pow_  
_Why not now?_  
_When will I belong?"_

  
But he knew the ringtone by heart, and was fully aware that the contact it belonged to would worry and continue incessantly calling until he answered.

_"Look where I am_  
_Damn_  
_My whole life fe-"_

  
"Hel-"

"Where are you?" Michael sounded irritable, but there was an edge to his tone that betrayed his concern. Jeremy winced as he visualized the other boy tapping his foot anxiously with tightly crossed arms, two tells that he was worried. "If you're ditching without me, I'm gonna be pi-"

"I'm not ditching. I'm... sick or something. I dunno."

Michael's voice softened with a tiny "Oh," followed by only the kindest, "Yeah, you sound terrible."

"Wow. Thanks."

"Well, uh... You okay? In a kind of general sense?"

_Obviously not._

  
"Yeah," Jeremy lied. "I'll live."

"Well, uh... Lemme know if you need me to grab you anything. I can do it when school lets out."

A weird panic rose in Jeremy's chest; he really didn't want anyone over. Hell, he didn't even really want his dad in the house, but he was working from home again and at least he left him alone for the most part. "No, no, I'm good. Thanks, though."

Silence.

"Michael? You there?" There was still no verbal response, but there was a dull buzzing sound that came from the phone. Jeremy pulled it away from his ear to find that it was back on the home screen.

_**Player 1: ???** _

 

**_ Player 1: Okay. Feel better man. Ttyl _ **

  
Weird. Obviously, Michael hadn't hung up and if Jeremy hadn't...

He rolled his eyes. Of course his powers were going to decide to be petty, but he guessed it was a bit of a saving grace. He loved Michael, he really did, but he just wasn't in the mood or state to talk. Exhausted, he responded with a simple "Sorry" and flipped back into a laying position.

Big mistake. Even though the bed was plush, the force and movement of the gesture shook him far more than he could handle. Pained, he held still for several long moments, believing that shifting any more would completely break him. He also refrained from saying anything or making any noise at all in fear of his insides betraying him. He was eventually able to relinquish a shuddering breath and roll into his side, but that was about it.

_ Click! _

 

_You've got to be kidding me._

  
The light had flicked on against his will, the rays shocking him and piercing into his tired eyes. "Oh, come on," he uttered, trying to muster the mental strength to order the ceiling lamp to turn off, but the device remained on.

Jeremy had the urge to get angry, but didn't. He felt like he was getting worse with each passing second, which he didn't even know was possible, and instead settled for resting his aching head on the pillow and forgetting his troubles through the magic that was sleep.

He always wondered if he fell asleep or passed out, never entirely sure which it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  
Eyes darted back and forth between the tracking system layout implanted in the car's dashboard and the road, focusing both on the current situation and the task at hand. There was no room for error. The smallest mistake could be grave.

At least, that's what the driver's unusually analytical mind told them.

Dozens of homes passed in the side windows as they cruised through the suburban New Jersey streets with purpose, counting off on each of the roads to find the path to their destination. There were so many routes to take, so many people they could choose to visit instead, but only one of those options mattered. There was only one civilian they wished to see. One person that would make any difference in their already complex past and present.

Lightly braking, the operator of the vehicle took another peek at the GPS and donated a glimpse to the street sign above.

_Not much longer._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

_ POP!  _

  
Jeremy jolted awake to the noise and a sound that resembled a sizzle, accompanied by shattered glass raining from the ceiling where the lamp's lightbulb was when it was still intact. He instinctively recoiled and hugged his knees to his chest as he shied away from the threat that disturbed his not-so restful sleep. His breathing quickened with a hefty dose of fear and panic, and he couldn't help but allow his eyes to dance around the room as he attempted to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He even tenderly reached out to handle a shard of the glass with care, but pain shot through his skull, pain unlike the kind he felt before. This was somehow even worse.

Mr. Heere threw open the door with the concern he always put on when something strange was going on with his son. "Jeremy! Is everything okay? I heard a-" He noticed the broken light and stuttered a little. "I- Did you-?" His eyes finally fell in Jeremy, who was now doubled over and desperately trying not to scream. "Are YOU okay?!"

Jeremy tried to speak, but all that came out was an odd squeak. He simply shook his head.

"Buddy, what's going on?" Mr. Heere trekked over to his side, his voice plagued with confusion and horror. All he could manage to do was continue to spew questions that couldn't be answered.

Jeremy couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All he could do was suffer.

His dad said something about... something before bolting out of the room; he was likely going to call someone who could actually offer help, but there was no telling. All of the noise around Jeremy was barely audible and extremely muffled, as though someone had boxed his ears.

He couldn't. He just couldn't.

Finally, he just gave up and screamed, unable to contain his misery any longer. Tears streamed down his face and the room was spinning, the dizzying view of his safe haven making his previously present quaking even worse. He had times where he THOUGHT he felt like he was dying, but he knew right then that he wasn't even close to being correct.

Mr. Heere sprinted back in, abhorring being gone for any measure of time when... whatever this was was going on. Even with him having only been gone for a few moments, Jeremy had already curled up into a ball on his bed, a sobbing mess; it was both a heartbreaking and terrifying sight to behold.

Frightened for his only child, Mr. Heere extended a gentle hand and placed it lightly on Jeremy's back to offer some comfort with little else to do.

Jeremy, strangely, calmed, his breath still shallow but the pain gradually fading. Mr. Heere reeled back, slightly shocked, but assumed it was a coincidence, though still held onto a small hope. Shaking it off, he took a seat on the wrinkled sheets next to the other and slowly helped him into a sitting position. Jeremy wobbled, not yet ready to rise but knowing he should force himself.

"You okay, Pal?" his dad repeated.

Jeremy nodded uncertainly and managed to stay upwards for a grand total of 1 1/2 minutes before another wave of lightheadedness washed over him. He wound up collapsing and falling onto Mr. Heere, who caught him with a bit of surprise.

_I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fi-_

 

_I'm not fine._

  
Even with the support Mr. Heere's form offered, Jeremy's line of sight grew smaller and smaller as a darkness consumed him. Staying conscious was becoming a chore, and an impossible one at that.

A doorbell ringing was the last thing he heard before the dark took him whole.


	3. Everyone Hates His Powers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange newcomer enters the scene and teaches Jeremy one of the most important musical lessons of all time: he is not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I'M A DUMBASS WHO WAS LIKE "AH YEAH SURE I'LL KEEP WRITING THIS" AND THEN WAITED ALMOST A YEAR  
> BUT THE BOOK LIVES SO HERE IS CHAPTER 3 F I N A L L Y  
> Also, a more calm note, I'm now basing this on the Broadway version, so Eric's name was changed to Jason (please see a psychiatrist).

The first question on Jeremy's mind as his brain slowly but surely flickered back to life was, understandably, "What the hell happened?" His mind was a disorganized concoction of conflicting memories, none of which very effectively informed him of what led to this moment, to this now partial state of unconsciousness that was keeping him down in what he could easily identify as a laying position. He could gather only that he had passed out cold, and that wasn't exactly a shocking revelation.

As his eyes slowly fluttered open, blinding sunlight flooded his vision and he realized very abruptly that whatever had happened had left him with a splitting headache. He moaned and buried his face in his hands, suddenly desperate for a few extra minutes of rest, but it was then that he felt a gentle hand rest itself on his leg. Slowly, he split his fingers apart to get his bearings and ease into the land of the living, and, as he adjusted to the brightness, the living room came into focus. He was spread out on the couch, with his father eyeing him cautiously from the other end.

A relieved grin played upon Mr. Heere's lips as he eaked out a tiny, nervous laugh and tapped Jeremy's calf in a friendly, fatherly gesture. "Hey, buddy," he almost whispered, his voice quivering. Something had him beyond shaken, something that Jeremy had yet to gather the brain power to identify.

"Dad...?" Jeremy's voice cracked, the sound completely lacking any support. He made a feeble attempt at rising into a proper sitting position, but that miniscule movement made his muscles ache and the room spin. Gravity would have brought him back down quite easily on its own, but the firm hands that planted themselves on Jeremy's shoulders helped a great deal.

Stuck facing the ceiling once more, Jeremy met the cold eyes of someone hovering over him, someone he had never encountered before, and the person's unreadable gaze silened any questions he might have had. They were absolutely ravishing, clean-cut as though they had sat alone in a sterilized room for their entire life before coming here, with their suit neatly pressed, dark hair combed and seemingly untouched, and skin absent of any and all imperfections. Even the borderline neon azure eyes were captivating, though simultaneously commanding, belonging to someone who did not take "No" for an answer.

"Relax," they instructed, and Jeremy immediately felt obligated to obey; their voice was stern but soothing, which somehow made the boy feel simultaneously secure and threatened. He had never believed that to be possible, but here he was, feeling it all too much.

Without requesting consent, the person removed Jeremy's glasses, took a miniature flashlight, and shone it directly into Jeremy's eyes, shifting from one to the other as they examined him closely. Jeremy made an attempt at squirming, but their hands were rooted firmly on the top of his chest, directly below his neck, which made it difficult to move. The light was more than a bit much, as it agitated his already intense headache, but it felt like they were finished before he could audibly protest. They hummed with an indecipherable tone and backed away upon returning Jeremy's glasses to his face.

"Stand up and walk over to the front door and back."

Still reeling, Jeremy glanced over at the person and then his father with an air of suspicion, but Mr. Heere just looked back at him with an expectant and uncomfortable smile.

Jeremy knew all too well that this would be less than pleasant, yet, since all eyes were on him, he obliged. Sitting up was, itself, a chore since the aches and fatigue had failed to subside, but his view of the room wasn't quite as nauseating. However, the action of rising caught his physical self off-guard; his sight blurred, a lightheadedness washed over him, and his knees shook, barely capable of supporting his weight. He had to brace himself on the arm of the couch, but, no matter how much it made him feel like it was going to take him down for a second time, he managed to make the swift trek in due time. When he flopped back down onto the couch, the person had retreated to a nearby recliner and was typing notes of some sort onto a tablet.

They laid the tablet across their lap and looked at the two men before them thoughtfully. "Weakness is to be expected, but it should subside by morning. The fact that you're able to move is a very good sign." They leaned forward, gaze set solely on Jeremy. "Now, turn the television on."

Jeremy, confused, was about to take the remote before he was stopped. "That's not what I meant."

Jeremy's heart all but stopped and he felt his father's hand wrap tightly around his own. "I, uh... I don't..."

"Just show them, Jeremy." Mr. Heere's voice lacked its usual compassion and apologetic intonation, which drew a fearful glance from his son. Still, the man stared straight forward, almost in disbelief that he was permitting this to transpire before his eyes. Years of hiding Jeremy and his powers away from the world and here he was, entrusting the Heere family's darkest secret to this person who just showed up on their doorstep.

Anxious, Jeremy conceded with a quivering voice. "I can- I can try." He wondered if this was real or just a figment of his imagination. There was no way this was reality, no way he was about to show this off, yet the approach of waking hours did not prevent him from focusing what little energy he had remaining on the television set up across the room.

It took a moment and more effort than it usually would, but, with a flick, the screen came to life. A miniscule smile spread across the person's face for the first time during that entire visit.

"Excellent control, especially when being so drained. I have to say, I'm impressed." However, their face fell back into a calm expression when they noticed the wariness painted on Jeremy's face. "I'm sensing you don't trust me. You have nothing to worry about; I'm not a threat to you, Jeremy. The overload you experienced earlier was simply a side effect of the tracking methods we use, and won't happen again." Slight disdain crossed their face and they turned towards the TV, which was rising in volume in tandem with Jeremy's rising anxiety. When the screen went dark, there was only one thought that crossed Jeremy's mind:

_That wasn't me._

"Surprised, aren't you? You'll be pleased to know that you're not the only one that's a bit... extraordinary."

_There's more?!_

"Wait, there's more?!"

"Oh, yes, and they're all in the same situation you're in: confused and severely untrained. That's actually why I came here today. You see, Jeremy, I know more than you could ever imagine about you and your capabilities. I'm beyond qualified to aid you and your unique peers in understanding your powers and learning how to properly utilize them. Your father and I have already discussed it, and he's open to the opportunity."

Jeremy turned to Mr. Heere in search of answers; the parent's eyes shifted away to avoid contact. "They seem to really know what they're talking about, and... I really think this could mean good things for you."

Swallowing his internal screams and taking a deep breath, Jeremy responded with as much poise as he could muster when he was absolutely freaking out inside. "Maybe, but... I dunno. This is a lot to take in. I mean, I've been dealing with this for most of my life and suddenly this all falls right into my lap?"

The person was quick to jump in. "I understand your skepticism and didnt expect you to have an answer right away. Just take my card and I'll give you about a week to make your decision." They reached into their pocket like the businessmen did in all those movies (and real life, Jeremy assumed, but the closest thing he had ever encountered to a businessman was his parents, and even that was a bit of a stretch), pulling out a card and a folded piece of paper, which they handed to Jeremy before moving on to thank and say goodbye to Mr. Heere.

The card was sleek, plain in only the most fashionable manner, with only the name "Jason" and a phone number printed on it. It was remarkably unremarkable, but, then and there, it felt like Jeremy was holding the world in his hands. It was the key to understanding himself and why he was the way he was.

As the door slammed shut, Jeremy moved on and unfolded the paper with trembling hands. Inside was a list of names written in crisp, neat handwriting, a list of names that caught the teen off-guard more than he ever thought it could.

Mr. Heere said something that Jeremy was sure might have been important, but it fell on deaf ears as he realized that he recognized every last person named.


End file.
